Violations
by Rickie Mac
Summary: A month after a disasterous away mission, that party still has a long way for healing. NO SLASH. Rating is for violence and language.
1. Chapter 1

I was in a state of severe insomnia when I first wrote this, so if there are sections that are difficult to understand, please let me know so I can rewrite them. In any case, thank you for reading this, my first Star Trek fan fiction.

* * *

"OW!" Dr. McCoy shouted as he rubbed his tender midsection which was caused by the smack of a now very apologetic Lieutenant.

"Oh Doctor, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" Dr. McCoy noticed a mild tremor in the Lt., along with the dilated pupils and hurriedly accepted her apology.

"Yes, I'll live. But you don't look so well yourself. Are _you_ ok?"

"I'm fine. I must have been too involved with my lab tests and didn't notice you. You just startled me, that's all."

McCoy raised his eyebrow, very much like a certain Vulcan he must have been hanging around too much lately. "Well, Lt. Torres, that was quite an exaggerated startle response. Do you always hit people like that when you get startled like that?"

He couldn't help but notice the blush that began to creep up her neck and on her cheeks. Her shaking got worse. "N-no Doctor McCoy, I don't. Like I said, I must have been too absorbed in my research and didn't notice you until you were right behind me."

"I would like to check you out in sickbay. You are shaking and your pupils are dilated."

"I don't think that's necessary, Doctor. It's probably just too much adrenaline. The shaking will go away in a minute."

"If it was just adrenaline, you won't be shaking worse now than before. Don't make me make than an order," he said, rather firmly. He could see her swallow very hard.

"S-sure. L-let me shut th-this down f-first." Doctor McCoy wasn't psychic, but he could see the fear very evident on her face. As she stood up, almost all color from her earlier blush drained from her face and she staggered for a moment. He grabbed her arm for support and could sense her tense up and nearly jump from the contact. "Thanks, Doctor, but I'm fine," she said as she quickly extricated her arm from his grip. She attempted to smile at him, but it came off more as a grimace. "I'll be fine."

"Alright." He shrugged but stayed close by in case she needed his assistance again. They were soon to sickbay, and he motioned to a biobed. "Lie down. It won't bite," he said with a smile.

He could have sworn that she muttered, "Yeah, but you might," but he decided to ignore it for the time being. Besides, her pulse rate, blood pressure, and adrenaline levels were cause for his immediate attention. He couldn't help the look of surprise that came upon his face.

"What is it?"

"Your life signs are almost off the chart. I need to get your heart rate and blood pressure down right now," he said as he reached for a hypospray.

"NO!" she shouted. Her pulse raised up even higher, and she began to sweat profusely.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing. Just, please, no shots! Please!" she practically whispered. She was hyperventilating at this point. McCoy could see how scared she was at this point.

"Alright. I'll make a deal. You tell me why you're so scared, and no shots," he said, smiling warmly at her.

"I-I…" she hesitated and started shaking more violently. She nearly smacked McCoy again when she felt the hypospray on her neck. The sedative took effect more quickly than her reflexes, however, and she sank into the biobed, unconscious.

"I'm sorry, Lt. Torres. It was for your own good," he said apologetically as he walked to his computer to check her file. Up until very recently, she had been perfectly healthy, both physically and mentally. She was very efficient and effective at her work in the biochemistry department and even had received a commendation from Commander Spock for her research. She had also been a vital member on several away missions, and had come back from one just the previous month. Doctor McCoy decided to read the report on that away mission first.

A few minutes of reading later, he had learned that she had accompanied the Captain, Mr. Spock, and a few other people down to Alpha Generalis IV for what was to be a routine survey. The planet was teaming with a particular microbe that, if adapted properly, could prove very dangerous to humanoids if used by less than scrupulous individuals, so she had been put on the away team party to further study this particular prion and to take samples to bring back to the ship for further study of a way to defend against it.

At least, that was the plan; however, the reality fell very short of that. A few moments into their routine mission, the whole landing party had been kidnapped and imprisoned for trespassing. The captives were treated roughly, gaining injuries that would eventually be treated by Dr. McCoy, and each one was questioned separately. McCoy noticed that while there were fairly detailed descriptions of most people's treatment by their captors, there was hardly any provided by Madeline or another member of that away party. In fact, in the report, they both stated that they didn't remember very much from her interrogations.

Mr. Scott had, a day after they had been taken captive, found a way to deactivate the shields that prevented their initial beam out and rescued the landing party from their imprisonment, but not before damage could be done. The Captain had lost quite a bit of blood from a head wound and was suffering from a severe concussion along with many other bruises and cuts, most likely from being beaten savagely. Mr. Spock had suffered various fractures, and even more horrifying was the fact that every single one of his fingers had been systematically broken, and a few crushed almost to powder, most likely over that day long period they were held. The rest of the landing party, including Lt. Madeline Torres, had been savagely whipped, which left several angry cuts and bruises for Dr. McCoy to heal. It was during the initial examination that he had discovered several abrasions that suggested to him that Lt. Torres had been sexually assaulted, but when that had been brought up to her, she vehemently denied it, stating that she would remember if something like that had happened to her.

The doctor sighed and theorized that perhaps she was remembering the attack now. That would explain the exaggerated startle reflex, the nervousness, the fact that she hadn't eaten much since a few days after their return from the planet, and the heightened emotional responses. He also recalled that before this away mission, he had seen her at least twice a week in the Rec Room 6 either singing for the other crew members, or just playing the piano for her own pleasure, but since she had returned from the away mission, she had not been there at least once that he could remember. He checked his chronometer and estimated that she would be awake in 10 minutes, most likely very angry for being administered a hypo despite her objections. He steeled himself for the questions he must ask and the action he must take when those questions were answered. "Damnit, I'm a doctor, not a psychiatrist. Aw, hell, who am I kidding? I should be one by now from the experience alone!"

He found Nurse Chapel and instructed her to make sure that his privacy was ensured and then got a chair and sat by the biobed and waited. He watched her face, the dark circled under her eyes telling him that she hadn't slept well in quite some time. She was muttering in her sleep, panicked, almost pleading with an unseen foe. "Please, don't. I'll tell you what you want, but anything but that!" Her pleas crescendoed and advanced in frequency, and the doctor decided that it was time for her to wake up. With a quick use of a hypospray, he injected a mild stimulant to wake her up.

She woke up with a start, punching wildly at the air, and shouting, "LEAVE ME ALONE, PLEASE! DON'T DO THAT!"

McCoy was nearly punched in the face as he touched her gently on the shoulder. "Shh, it's ok. You're safe here," he repeated over until she became more aware of her surroundings and remembered what he had done to her.

"YOU! How could you, especially when I specifically asked you NOT to give me a hypo! How could you violate me like that?!?!?"

*Ah well, here's as good a starting place as any.* "Shouldn't you be asking that to the folks on Alpha Generalis?" He carefully gauged her reaction. She glared at him and by the twitching of her arms, he could tell she was using all of her will to not punch the doctor.

"And just WHAT would you know about that!"

"Nothing specific. Mostly circumstantial, but I've seen this too many times, so I'm sure that there is more than what you stated in your report."

Her anger dissipated, and he could see her withdrawing into herself very quickly. She whispered, "I don't want to talk about it. Please, don't make me go there again."

"I wish I didn't have to, but you can't keep it in like you have. The reason why I had to give you a sedative is that your heart rate and blood pressure nearly made you have a stroke. You have barely eaten for the past month, also, and you'll soon wear out if you don't change things. Please, tell me what happened." Her lack of motion made him wonder if she even heard his words, but the tears that began to silently trickle down her face let him know that she, in fact, had heard most of them.

She was so quiet that he almost didn't hear her, but he still knew when she said, "They raped me. The bastards raped me," before breaking down into heart wrenching sobs. Although somewhat concerned about being hit again, Dr. McCoy placed a gentle hand on hers, and to his relief, she grabbed it tighter and also with her other hand as if he were her lifeline. And perhaps, he was at this point. He let her cry for a few moments until her cries lessened.

"Can you tell me more?" he asked very gently. He could see her struggle to come up with the right words and there were many false starts, but eventually she took a deep breath and started talking.

"When I was first taken into the interrogation room, they started beating me almost immediately. I have a high pain tolerance, so that wasn't too horrible. When they were done with that, I was stripped and practically hung up in the middle of the room from my arms. They kept asking me questions... questions about the Enterprise, about my fellow captives, about the Federation. Things that I couldn't answer and wouldn't even if I could. And so, I didn't. They must have decided that using a whip would get me to talk, but I remained silent. By this point, I was so exhausted, but when one of them got within kicking distance, I planted my foot as hard as I could in a… well, you know. That provoked who I assumed was the leader of all 3 of them to great anger, so the next thing I knew, I felt a h-hypo being pressed into my neck. I-I *gasp* I-I…" She stammered a few times before she started sobbing again.

"What did that hypo do to you?" he asked.

"I-I c-couldn't m-m-move. But I-I was s-s-still aware of everything. And o-of the p-punishment f-for my attack. T-they decided t-to c-continue whipping m-me as… a-as they t-took turns." She got up from the biobed at this point and started pacing restlessly. She waited until she could stop stammering to finish her though. "I couldn't even cry out. The neuroparalyzer saw to that," she finished bitterly. And then, she slammed her fist as hard as she could into the bulkhead a few times before McCoy was able to stop her.

"Now, why did you do that for?" he asked, biting back the urge to yell at her.

"Because it hurts!"

"What, your hand or something else?"

"I just wish it would stop hurting. I wish it would go away! Dammit to bloody hell, why won't it stop?!" The tirade which started off as a whisper ended as a scream. She managed to hit the bulkhead only once more before Doctor McCoy grabbed her arm and prevented any further harm.

"Let me check that out," he said as he ran a tricorder over her hand. "I'm not surprised! You've broken a couple metatarsals and a couple of fingers. Especially after what you've just revealed to me, I'm hesitant to restrain you or sedate you again, but if you do that again, I'll be forced to. Don't make me have to," he said, his eyes almost pleading.

Her anger momentarily disbursed, she was only able to nod weakly. He led her to the biobed once again and guided her to a lying position. It was only then was she able to register the pain in her now broken hand. It was only the elevation of the pain monitor that McCoy was able to see how much pain she was in, as she bit her lip and struggled to control her breathing as best as she could to school her features to not appear in pain. "Are you going to let me give you something for the pain?"

"Is it in pill form?" she asked, almost hesitantly.

"I can give you something in pill form, but it'll take at least a half an hour to kick in. A hypo is instantaneous."

McCoy watched the Lt. very closely. At first, panic flashed in her green eyes, but after a couple of breaths, he saw an amazing amount of strength overtake her and she nodded almost imperceptibly. The doctor silently prepared the hypo. As he came towards her with it, she bit back a scream, but did not try to strike the doctor this time. After the contents of the shot were administered, she drew herself almost into a ball and started rocking back and forth silently.

"You wanna talk some more?"

As she shook her head, all she would say was, "Tired. So tired. Have barely slept in a month," over and over again. The mild sedative he mixed in with her painkiller kicked in and she was off to sleep.

At this time, Spock came to the sickbay, rather eager to have the rest of his bandages removed from his appendages. He studied the sleeping Lt. silently as Dr. McCoy covered her up. "Doctor, what is Lt. Torres's condition?" he asked, allowing only a small amount of concern peek through his voice.

"Well, Spock, she is exhausted, run down, and is suffering from some post-traumatic stress, but I wouldn't expect you to know about that, would you?" the doctor said very pointedly, directing the anger he held towards the inhabitants on Alpha Generalis IV to the Vulcan.

"I assume that anger is misplaced and is directed towards someone else. What sort of trauma has caused Lt. Torres to be in such a condition?"

If McCoy wasn't going to type up a general report about this situation, he would not have spoken about it with Spock, but seeing as he would soon know, he decided to give the Commander a brief synopsis of his conversation with the biochemist. "You remember Alpha Generalis IV, I presume?"

"I do," he said, looking thoughtfully at his hand. "Since that away mission, the Lt.'s efficiency has reduced by 10%. I would have asked her about that tomorrow, but I assume she has already spoken of the reason for that reduction in efficiency."

"She has. She was treated very brutally by your all's captors down there. They decided to use even more primitive and base means to force information out of her." McCoy was spitting mad at this time.

"I see, Doctor. Is there anything else I should know?"

"Well, thanks to them, she is now scared of hyposprays. Before the worst part of her attack, they gave her a neuroparalyzer. She couldn't move or fight back, but she was aware of everything."

The doctor could have swore that he saw a flash of anger and guilt sweep across Spock's face, but before he could double check, the Science Officer's normal Vulcan façade had returned. "Doctor, may I speak with you in your office?"

The doctor's eyes widened slightly, but he just nodded and led the way into his office after he ordered Nurse Chapel to contact him at the first sign of the Lt. waking up. "Have a seat, Spock. You wanna drink?"

"No thank you, Doctor. However, offer is appreciated." McCoy gave him a *suit yourself* shrug, and ordered a hot cup of coffee. He nodded as in *Go ahead, Spock* "I felt some of what happened to the Lt. I believe her anguish was so great that I was able to pick it up even from the holding cell. It is a testament of her fortitude that she has been able to function as well as she has for the past month. Stronger people have broken from less," he said, ending almost in a whisper.

"So, you knew, you green blooded hobgoblin? And you didn't think that this information was pertinent for her doctor to know?"

"There is more than my knowledge of her attack. When she was returned to the cell, she momentarily staggered. I prevented her from falling, but in doing so, I saw first-hand the details of that interrogation. In my desire to prevent her any more pain, I…" With a very un-Spock sigh, he closed his eyes momentarily.

"Well, Spock, you what?"

"I blocked the memories from her conscious mind. If I had had prolonged contact with her, I would have been able to better block them."

McCoy's eyes, not for the first time that day, flared with anger. "So after her physical assault, you had to further it by messing with her mind without her permission! My God, Spock! No wonder she didn't remember anything at first! Why did you do it?"

"Doctor, as I already stated, my intentions were to prevent any further pain. I had also intended to follow up with her sooner, but she has been in the lab at least 14.37 hours a day since our return. As I have already stated, I meant to follow up with her tomorrow."

"Well, I guess you get to follow up today."


	2. Chapter 2

"Well, I guess you get to follow up today, Mr. Spock," McCoy said. "She will should be awake in about 15 minutes. Until then, it would help to know exactly what you did to her a month ago."

Spock hesitated only slightly, but after a deep breath and an almost-sigh, he spoke. "I already stated, Doctor, that I suppressed the memories of her attack just far enough to keep her out of shock. She was in a severely dissociative state when she was returned to the cell where we were held. I was not sure if she would have been able to withstand that state until we returned to the _Enterprise_. At that time, I did not know when we would be back on board for her injuries to be treated."

"And you didn't follow up?"

"I was — unsure how to approach her after we were back on board. I was confined to sickbay longer than expected, and by the time I was released, Lt. Torres was back on duty."

McCoy sighed and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. The anger he had previously held slowly dissipated as Spock explained himself. "Well, Spock, I don't blame your motives, but even you have to admit that afterward you really screwed the pooch." Spock raised his eyebrows at this, and almost explained that he was never involved with a canine in such a way, but McCoy just waved his hand dismissing the statement, and further explained, "That means you messed up big time. Now, you have to make it right. She is in a fragile state right now, and I think that she has at least some measure of trust with me, so I want to be there when you explain the situation to Madeline."

"Agreed, Doctor."

"I think I have enough time for her to wake up to take those bandages off," Dr. McCoy said, finally eying the wraps on the Vulcan's hands.

"Doctor McCoy, that would be most agreeable," said Spock. Leonard momentarily saw a flash of relief cross Spock's face, but as soon as he saw it, it was already gone. He made quick work of removing the dressings, and soon enough, Spock was flexing his hands.

"Well, are you ready to face the piper?" Dr. McCoy asked as they walked back to Lt. Torres's bedside.

"Doctor, surely you are not attempting to classify me as a rodent."

"Shut up, Spock! I'm waking her up right now. You don't need to scare her out of her wits before you even get started!"

Spock raised an eyebrow at the doctor, but he wisely decided not to give another retort at the nearly murderous look on the doctor's face.

Dr. McCoy took a big breath, and pressed a hypo with a very mild stimulant in the Lt.'s neck. Again, he almost got smacked in the face and was almost deafened by a high-pitched scream, but he showed his quick reflexes and avoided her hand from connecting his face. He started speaking her name very quietly and gently touched her hand. "Lt. Torres, it's alright. You're safe here. Lt., wake up. Madeline, you're in the sickbay on the _Enterprise._" Her eyes opened, and panic momentarily flooded her features, but after another moment of Dr. McCoy's quiet murmurings, she began to calm down.

"I didn't hit you again, did I?" she asked, genuinely concerned, although she was joking somewhat.

"No, not this time, Lt. But, you do have a visitor," he said, as he pointed towards Spock.

"Commander!" she gasped, while attempting to get up and stand at attention.

"Lay down, Lt.!" McCoy yelled out before thinking. Madeline tensed up for a moment, but proceeded to lie back down, with an almost wicked gleam in her eye.

"Doctor, I believe the proper term is 'lie down', not 'lay down'."

Spock, with a similar glint in his eye stated, "Lt., I believe that I was going to state the same thing."

"Oh God, now you're both ganging up on me," the doctor said, while throwing his hands up in the air.

"Commander Spock, I know you didn't just come to help me make Dr. McCoy's life more difficult," she said, eying the Vulcan very carefully.

"Indeed. My visit to sickbay was at first to have the bandages removed from my injuries received on Alpha Generalis IV, but after seeing that you were here, I wished to inquire of your condition," he said, watching Lt. Torres's expression very carefully. Her eyes immediately dulled over, as if she was not even present in the sickbay, and she almost began rocking imperceptibly. Spock looked at the doctor helplessly, but Bones merely mouthed _keep talking to her_ and nodded his head encouragingly. "Lt., I understand that you had some undesirable events happen to you on Alpha Generalis IV. I deeply regret that, but I would regret most of all if you were to allow this event to define who you are and the rest of your life. You are more than what those on that planet deemed you were," he said, almost in a whisper. He was unsure if she had heard him, but he noticed that her gaze wasn't so distant so he kept on speaking. "For you to continue in blaming yourself for this incident is not logical." At this, the green-eyed lieutenant finally came back to the sickbay and started crying, this time silently.

After a short moment, she looked at Spock, "I'm sorry for such an, I imagine for you, uncomfortable display.

"Lt., while emotion is something that I am able to control and suppress, for humans, and specifically for you, it is not a very healthy, or logical. Has today been the first time you have cried since your assault?" he asked.

"It has. Spock?" she started, but was hesitant in finishing her sentence.

"Yes, Lt. Torres, please go ahead."

"Spock, back on that planet, after I was... after they finished interrogating me and was brought back to the cell, there was a moment that you... I staggered, and you helped to steady me," she started, but was unable to finish it.

"So, you felt my invasion," he stated, almost showing shame.

"I didn't really feel it so much as my recent memories were suddenly weren't so... biting and on the forefront. By the time we made it back to the _Enterprise_, I couldn't remember what happened to me. A few days later, I starting having flashbacks and nightmares. I thought that I was going crazy, because I have had similar flashbacks before, but this time, it was almost like they were still in my head."

"You also have not been eating well. I estimate that since our return from there, you have lost 7.71 kilograms," Spock said.

"I have wanted to eat, but I haven't been able to keep anything down. I can't sleep, either. The nightmares are horrendous. They are worse than nightmares, as it is as if every detail has been perfectly preserved."

At Madeline's description of her symptoms, Spock nearly blanched. "Spock, what is it?" McCoy asked him, very concerned by the near lack of green in the Vulcan's face.

After taking three breaths to reassume mastery over his emotions, he simply stated. "Lt., I believe that you have been the victim of a forced mind-meld."


	3. Chapter 3

I wish to thank everyone for their kind reviews thus far. I have been reviewing my previous chapters for mistakes, and am in the process of fixing those. I will have an updated version up sometime after Easter (or Pascha).

I sincerely wish and hope that everyone has a wonderfully blessed Triduum and a Happy Pascha!

* * *

He simply stated. "Lt., I believe that you have been the victim of a forced mind-meld."

"WHAT! Surely you're not serious," McCoy nearly sputtered.

"Doctor McCoy, I assure you that I am most serious," Spock said, slowly and solemnly.

Madeline's eyes got wide for a moment, and then began nodding slowly, processing the information. "It makes sense, Doctor. At first, I thought that I was suffering the effects of a post-hypnotic suggestion, but that didn't quite make complete sense to me. Some of the symptoms are similar, but too much was unexplained by that hypothesis." Madeline was somewhat relieved at this news, as she was not fearing her sanity so much anymore. "So, Commander Spock, what is the next step?"

"Doctor McCoy, when was your most recent neurological examination of Lt. Torres?"

"It's been awhile. I'll grab my tricorder," he said, embarrassed by his lack of a thorough and recent examination of the Lt. He ran his equipment over Madeline, and whistled quietly to himself. "There is a degeneration of synapses and neurotransmitter production is practically zero."

"As I suspected. Doctor, please give the lieutenant a dose of Lexorine. It will halt the damage until a Vulcan healer will be able to examine her." After a moment of loading a hypo, the doctor complied with Spock's request.

At the mention of a Vulcan healer, Lt. Torres turned ghostly white and her pulse rate jumped to almost 120. "Commander, won't the Lexorine take care of the problem? I've already had enough Vulcans poking around in my head, and if it's just the same, I'd rather not."

Spock looked at Madeline, and his eyes softened into something akin to sympathy. "I regret to inform you that if a Vulcan healer is not called to assess and correct the damage done, you face a certain and permanent insanity."

As Dr. McCoy had witnessed earlier, Madeline accessed a source of great strength, and after a few deep breaths, she nodded. "When?"

"It will be approximately 2.37 standard weeks before we will be able to reach Vulcan." He hesitated for a moment. "I fear that permanent damage has already been done, and I am certain of that fact that by the time we reach Vulcan, it will be so."

"So, the Lexorine, what, only stops further damage being done? It doesn't fix any current damage?"

"Affirmative, Lt."

"Joy!" she said, very sarcastically, rolling her eyes and shaking her head. Dr. McCoy suspected she was trying very hard not to cry at that point. She suddenly sat up straight, as a thought that previously had not occurred to her hit her. "What if I'm not the only victim of a mind meld? Commander, I doubt that you were violated in such a way, but you and I were not the only members of that landing party. What if this Vulcan planted something in us that could later cause us to be a danger to the ship and the rest of the crew?" Her eyes were wide at this point, and she was as near to a state of panic without actually having a panic attack.

"I had yet to consider that possibility. Dr. McCoy, if you will, please page Ensign Rodgers and Hart, Lt. Zerrowick, and Captain Kirk to sickbay for an examination. If anyone, especially the Captain should protest, please use your medical override. I am sure you know this is a most urgent matter."

"Right away, Spock," he said, voice trailing off as he made his way to his office. Spock and Madeline, now left alone in that particular sickbay ward, glanced at each other occasionally, until Madeline spoke.

"Commander. I-uh... What you did back there... I don't know how to say it, but... Ah heck, thank you, Commander," she said, not quite meeting his gaze. Because of that, she missed the confusion and shock now present in his eyes.

"'Thank you?' I do not understand. I am just as guilty as those on Alpha Generalis IV who attacked you. I have--"

"Mr. Spock, please! Let me finish. Without that mind touch, I surely would be hopelessly debilitated at this point, insane, and quite possibly dead, right?"

"There is an 89.751 percent possibility of those first two occurrences, and a 60.593 percent possibility of the last."

"So, in effect, with that act, that moment of compassion you had, you have saved me. You gave me a chance at recovery."

"Although I had not previously contemplated that point of view, it is a logical one."

"Then, is it not logical to also thank you?"

"But my actions, without your permission especially, are unconscionable, and I should be--"

She raised her hand to silence him. "What, reported to the Vulcan authorities? Punished? Hell, Mr. Spock, if I had been able to give consent at that moment, I would have. I still would," she said, her eyes full of a question that she was very afraid to ask.

Spock saw the question in her eyes, and nearly flinched. He was unsure of his worthiness to even be asked, especially after his breach of ethics. Nearly as reluctant to ask the question as Madeline was, he, after reasserting his mastery over his emotions, nearly whispered. "Are you asking _me_ to heal the damage done to you?"

"Yes, Mr. Spock. I'm sure you are pretty curious as to why I am, right?" He nodded. "Because, for one, I trust you. Yes, even after all of that. And secondly, and perhaps most important... you possibly won't call it compassion. Perhaps you will say it was the only logical way to see me back to the ship. I barely remember it, but when I was first brought back to that cell, I was only a moment away from unconsciousness. I was in severe shock, and even through that, I could feel my life energies draining from me. Instead of you retaining your privacy, which I know you hold almost as sacred as I do the Blessed Virgin Mary," at this Spock raised an eyebrow, and his eyes almost twinkled with amusement, "you reached out your hand, your broken and savaged hand, and your mind, and you helped in the best way you could at that time.

"I am sure that the healer you would be able to get to help me is the best in his or her field, but, especially after all that I've been through, I need compassion most of all." She ended her plea at nearly a whisper, but somehow was able to maintain the same strength at the first of it to the end. "I won't ask you again, since I don't want to pressure you. I just hope you can see the logic in it."

Spock looked at her thoughtfully, things in the sickbay ward quiet momentarily, but that silence was soon dashed with Dr. McCoy's angry voice from his office. "Jim, you'd better get down here, NOW, before I have to use my medical override. Don't make me have to come up there and get you, or so help me God, I will make sure this physical is done manually, with instruments that I have placed in the cooler beforehand! Understand, Captain?"

A smaller voice, coming from the intercom answered. "Quite well, Bones. I'll be down there in a few moments."

"I think Dr. McCoy needs some of that tranquilizer that he gave me earlier," Madeline said, amused.

"Indeed. The doctor is a man of many passions."

"Think perhaps you should check on him before he crawls through that communicator and drags the captain down here through it?"

"I would say that was illogical for him to do that, but I do believe that if there was a way to do so, he is currently mad enough to find that way. Will you be alright by yourself for the time being?"

Lt. Torres smiled slightly, very touched by his concern. "I will. At least better than the doctor is right now."

"A deranged selat would be most definitely calmer than Dr. McCoy is at this point."


End file.
